Cristina Odone is a journalist, novelist and broadcaster specialising in the relationship between society, families and faith. She is the director of communications for the Legatum institute and is a former editor of the Catholic Herald and deputy editor of the New Statesman. She is married and lives in west London with her husband, two stepsons and a daughter. Her new ebook No God Zone is now available on Kindle.

Dame Jenni Murray should stop pretending she's a class warrior

Jenni Murray is now a Dame of the British Empire. Few broadcasters deserve the honour more: for decades Miss Murray has presented Woman's Hour, one of Radio 4's flagship programmes. Unlike other Radio 4 programmes, that are more hit-and-miss, Woman's Hour is unfailingly satisfying and has won itself a special place in the hearts of British women – and increasingly men. For this success, Miss Murray deserves much of the credit: I can't think of many other broadcasters, male or female, who exude her air of warmth and authority.

I still remember being invited on last year to discuss motherhood, and my fellow-guest, a young and enthusiastic fan of the programme, jumped up and kissed Miss Murray when she came into the studio, and insisted on my taking a photo of the two of them together: "You're my heroine," she gushed. I know many women who'd echo that: women's progress has been an uneven narrative, but throughout, Miss Murray has been its pitch-perfect chronicler.

Yet when it came to being elevated to a "Dame", Miss Murray struck the wrong note. Instead of graciously accepting her honour, the broadcaster took the award and then carped that she felt like she had betrayed her class by accepting it. Should a working class lass from Barnsley, brought up on a council estate, "rush head-long into the bosom of the Establishment"? Were she listening to a guest making such protestations on her programme, Miss Murray would cut them short. "Don't be so rude," she'd growl, "you should be so lucky."

And we the listeners would applaud. We're getting fed up with the way every Honours' List must give way to loud but fake reservations about accepting a Damehood or a Knighthood by class warriors who – guess what? – have spent all their lives trying to climb out of the class they were born into. The point about talent is that, when pursued intelligently, it will elevate someone from a council estate in Barnsley (or Brixton, or Blackbird Leys) into the Establishment. This is not treachery, but meritocracy, and Dame Jenni Murray should be proud of having made it. When she sneers at her own ascent, she is giving the wrong signal to those Barnsley-born talents who come after her: don't get up here, because if you do you're embracing the enemy.